12 Steps
by prsweetie
Summary: He is forced into this program in a attempt to keep his job. She has to be there or risk losing her freedom. Neither one will admit that their problems run deep, can the program save them before it's too late? Starring Randy, OC, John, Mark, and others.
1. Step One: Admitting

This is an idea that came to me and I'm very excited about it. I haven't really dealt with a topic like this before and I hope you all enjoy it.

* * *

_Welcome to Alcoholics Anonymous- Trust God, Clean House, Help Others_

This is such fucking bullshit. I don't have a problem. Vince and the others at the company are fucking crazy if they think a twelve-step program is going to fix something that isn't even wrong. So I have a few drinks and some a little weed, that does not mean that I have a problem.

Now the guy with the reeked breath and dirty clothes that sitting beside me, he has a problem. So does the fat chick in the corner with the glazed over eyes, but not me. No sir. I'm Randy Fucking Orton. The Legend Killer, third generation superstar, and youngest World Heavyweight Champion EVER. Does that sound like a person who has a problem to you?

Vince said that wrestlers have been complaining about me. They said that I'm becoming more difficult than usual, that my divorce has made me hit the bottle harder than ever before. I call bullshit. Those motherfuckers are pissed because I'm taking their main-event spots from them so they need to start drama.

Vince said it was either this meetings or a pink slip. I can't work for another company so here I am. I roll my eyes as the timid man with the soft voice tells us that we are getting ready to begin. I lean back in the hard wooden chair as I stretch out my legs. I should just close my eyes and go to sleep but the faint smell of perfume stops me. I look up as a young woman sits down across from me.

Now that's what I'm talking about. Some eye candy for me to admire instead of all these other lowlifes. I watch her closely as she crosses her arms and rolls her eyes, letting everyone know that this is not where she wants to be.

Her long brown hair seemed to curl right underneath her breasts and her grey-blue eyes seemed to hide some mischief behind them. I liked her casual look of a leather jacket, holey jeans and boots. She finally makes eye contact with me and if it wasn't for where I was at, I would ripped her fucking clothes off and pin her against the wall.

I look up and realize that everyone is looking at me. I look confused as someone finally speaks.

"Please introduce yourself."

"Oh. I'm Randy." I roll my eyes to let this man know that he is the last person I want to look at.

"What brings you here?"

"My job forced me to be here. I don't have a problem."

"Then why did your job force you to be here?"

"Cause they are all jealous fuckers." I watch as the woman tweaks her lips up in a smile. I wink at her before looking back at the man.

"Look I'm here so just move on."

Two hours of sob stories and bullshit and I'm finally out of there. There were tales of losing everything from spouses to homes to children. Those people have serious problems. They are the ones that need to be there. Not me. Not today, or ever.

I need to talk to Vince. I'll promise him that I won't drink in public again but there is no fucking way I can go back there.

I'm waiting outside the door for the woman who I now know is Kendall, to come out of the room. She's in the same boat I'm in. She says that the court made her come after a bar fight led to her knocking some chick unconscious. That right there is my kind of woman.

She walks past me and I grab her elbow to get her attention. She whips around as if ready to fight but her features soften a bit when she sees it's me.

"You want to go grab a drink?" She asks me and I can't seem to pull my eyes off here.

"Yeah." We walk in silence to the parking lot as I try to find something intelligent to say. I notice her stop by a black Harley and I must say I'm impressed.

"Nice." I nod towards her bike and she seems to agree.

"Ok, this is how it's going to go down. We'll go the bar, pound back a few, then we will go to one of our homes where I will proceed to fuck the shit out of you. Sound good to you?"

"Wow. You know what you want don't you?"

She lets out a throaty laugh and I feel my pants tightening. "No sense in bullshitting around with boring conversation and false promises." She puts on her helmet and I head to my car.

* * *

Just like promised, after a few shots of Johnny Walker Black, she pulled me into her little one-bedroom apartment. She took of my clothes like an expert before leaving me standing on the wall while she got down and put me in her mouth.

The sweet warm feeling of her mouth on me forced me to throw my head back and grab her hair with my hands. Damn that feels good. Not wanting to ruin a good thing, but needing to feel her insides, I grip her hair and force her to stand up.

Her eyes ask questions and I lift her tiny frame and push her against the wall. When I'm inserted in her I have to try not to gasp like some fucking girl but the truth is she fits perfectly around me. I pound into her so hard that the photos on the wall are falling carelessly on the floor. I would ask her if it hurts but the way that she's digging her teeth into my shoulder lets me I'm doing just fine.

I forgot what it was like to have a nice, sweaty fuck. My ex-wife always wanted to make love. She wanted me to be like some goddamn movie star that looks at her and tells her she's beautiful. Fuck that. This, this right here, is what I've been craving.

I place her back on her feet and force her to lean over the couch as I quickly take her from behind. The screams that are coming from her throat make me quicken my pace and before I can even register what is going on, I cum.

I'm dowsed in sweat and feel great. I watch as Kendall wobbles to the bathroom before returning with a wet rag. I go to kiss on the mouth and she turns her head.

"Clean up so you can go. It was a lot of fun. Maybe we'll do it again sometime." I watch as she walks back to her bedroom naked and shuts her door.

I can't fucking believe it. No chick has ever kicked me out before, normally after I fuck them, they are begging me to stay. I shake my head as I get dressed and look down at my vibrating phone.

"Yo." I answer while opening the door, slightly wanting her to come out the bedroom and ask me for a round two.

"Where the fuck are you? Your meeting ended hours ago." I realize she's not coming out so I walk through her door and head towards the steps. I know one thing; I damn sure won't be missing the next meeting.


	2. Step Two: Believe

_The process of Alcoholics Anonymous is the following:_

_admitting that one cannot control one's addiction or compulsion;_

_recognizing a greater power that can give strength;_

_examining past errors with the help of a sponsor (experienced member);_

_making amends for these errors;_

_learning to live a new life with a new code of behavior;_

_Helping others that suffer from the same addictions or compulsions._

_

* * *

  
_

I roll my eyes at both Paul and Dave. For some reason or another, Vince feels the need to let them go with me to the next AA meeting for some kind of moral support. Moral support my ass. That whole Evolution thing was a bunch of bullshit. I don't like them and they don't like me.

Paul needs to do whatever he can to make his marriage with Stephanie work cause without that he would be down to mid-card status quickly. Although that wouldn't be a bad idea. I mean, the fucker already made his mark in history, why not give the rest of us a chance to make a name for ourselves without eating out Steph?

As far as Dave, his head is so far up Paul's ass, I'm amazed that he can put complete sentences together without Paul pulling the strings. Dave used to be mad cool back in OVW. John, Dave and I used to run around there like the Three Musketeers. We were always having fun, working out and living our dream. Once Evolution started, I became the bratty kid while the two "mature" fuckers knew everything. What a bunch of bullshit.

Another thing that pisses me off about Paul is he tries to take credit for my Summerslam 2004 win as if he was in my body wrestling for me. No that was all me baby. Fucking asshole.

In any event, I'm drowning the two out while they talk about wrestling in the front seat of the car and I concentrate on seeing Kendall again. That's really the only reason why I'm agreeing to come to this stupid thing again. Like I said before, and like I will continue to say, I don't believe that I have a problem. But if going to this meeting will allow me to see the beautiful woman with the blue-gray eyes again, then I'm going to swallow my pride, deal with these fuckers and go.

Paul couldn't pull up to the small building quick enough. I jump out the car, leaving the two old, gimpy motherfuckers behind. All I want to do is see her again and feel her body on top of mine.

Again, I see the same people who lives depend on being at these meetings. Again, they are nothing like me. Paul sits on one side of me and Dave on the other, as if they are waiting for me to run. Why couldn't Vince have let John or Jamal come with me? At least they are two guys that I trust and wouldn't mind be stuck between. Besides Dave's metro sexual cologne is giving me a massive fucking headache.

One hour into the session and Kendall is still nowhere to be found. Where the hell could she be? A part of me thinks that she was just smart and decided not to have sit through anymore of these things. But there is another part of me, a part that I'm scared to admit, that is actually concerned. It's as if I know there is something off about her not being here.

I block out the rest of the meeting and make to sure to say the necessary things to the sponsor for him to think I'm actually paying attention. It's just like sitting in any WWE meeting. Once it's over I stand up and look at the men.

"Well, Orton, it's seems like this place might do you some good." _Bite it fucker._

"Sure Paul. Listen, I'm going to take a walk. You guys just head back to the hotel."

"You're sure you aren't headed to a bar?"

"No, Dave, no bar. Just some good, sober fresh air." _Asshole_

_

* * *

  
_

Thank god. I finally got rid of them. I don't what the hell I am doing but before I could even register my thoughts, I found myself walking around St. Vincent's Park.

I don't know why I was here or what I was looking for. I mean, if I was really worried about seeing Kendall, I know where she lives, I could just stop by.

I hear some rustling in the bushes over to my left but I figure it's nothing more than a squirrel. I look down at my ringing cell phone and roll my eyes. It's Sam, my ex-wife and the reason why I'm going through all this bullshit in the first place. She's been calling a lot lately as if her sweet voice won't send me running to the nearest bottle. If she wants me to stop drinking, then she seriously needs to stop calling.

I put my phone back in my pocket and the rustling in the bushes have now turned into a moan. Call it curiosity or just plain fucking boredom but I head over to see what's going on. Nothing could prepare me for what I was about to see.

There lying in the bushes was Kendall. Her leather jacket was torn as well as her shirt. Her beautiful face was framed with bruises and her long hair had traces of blood in it. I heard her let out a soft moan and I bend down closer to make sure it's ok to move her.

Her eyes make contact with mine and she attempts to smile.

"No hospital." That is all she says to me before closing her eyes again. Now I'm no prince in shining whatever, but even I'm not heartless enough to leave her here. I scoop her in my arms and head towards home.

The couple of blocks to my home seem to take forever and I feel somewhat alright just listening to her breathe. I'm so concentrated in getting her in the house that I barely notice the three figures standing at my door huddled together. They all look at me, then look at Kendall. Fuck, this is going to be a long night.

"Randy, what happened?" I fight the urge to roll my eyes at Sam and I look at Dave and Paul.

"Can you stop fucking standing here and open the damn door? I'll explain everything later."

I look down at Kendall one more time as I rush her upstairs to get her cleaned up. They can sit downstairs all night for all I fucking care. I need to help her.

As I'm washing the dried blood of her face a question hits me like a bolt of lightening.

Why do I need to help her so much and will she even let me?


	3. Step Three: Decision

_The first three steps and traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous are as follows:_

_1. We admitted we were __powerless__ over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable. _

_2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity. _

_3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of __God__as we understood Him__._

_Traditions:_

_1. Our common welfare should come first; personal recovery depends upon AA unity. _

_2. For our group purpose there is but one ultimate authority—a loving God as He may express Himself in our group conscience. Our leaders are but trusted servants; they do not govern. _

_3. The only requirement for AA membership is a desire to stop drinking._

_

* * *

  
_

I look down at Kendall for over thirty minutes before I am completely sure that she will be okay. I seem to be mesmerized by the way her chest slowly rises and falls. The moonlight shining through my window seem to emphasize her exotic features. I become fixated with her full, pouty lips and I try to ignore the cut on her cheek or the bruise developing around her eye.

I take a heavy breath before I start to head downstairs. A part of me is hoping that the three nosy ass people would be gone by now, but no luck with that. They seem to be talking about me cause the minute I show my face, they all shut up.

"What?" They each look at each other as if they are scared to speak up, which is fucking laughable because normally I can never get any of them to shut the fuck up.

"Who the hell is she?" I roll my eyes at Paul before I flop down on the couch.

"Her name is Kendall."

"That still doesn't explain who she is and how you know her." I look at Sam and for a spilt second, I wish she was a dude so I could smack the shit out of her.

"Why are you here, Sam?"

"I called you and you haven't been picking up the phone. So I was worried."

I start to laugh at that. "You were worried. You are the reason I'm in this fucking mess in the first place. You want me to stop drinking; you want to be some man that I never promised to be. You want me to be all of these things but the reality is you made this way."

"Randy…"

"No, it's true. You fucking come here all sweet and innocent like you are going to be the one to fix me. How the fuck do you plan on fixing something you broke? You don't get to call me or be concerned or question who the fuck is in my home."

Sam opens and closes her mouth a few times before grabbing her coat and heading towards the door. Normally the sound of her tears would cause me to go after her, but this time I just want her gone. I drop my head back and will this headache to go away.

"Who is she, Orton?"

I growl a little bit before I look at Dave. "She's a girl from AA. I saw her last week, so when I was walking through the park, I recognized her. She asked me not to take her to a hospital, so I brought her here. Anything else, Dad?"

"Do you think it's a good idea to be getting involved with someone from your meetings?"

"I'm not involved with shit. What would you have preferred me to do Paul? Do you want me to just leave her sitting there in a pile of bushes and blood?"

It took many exhausting hours but I finally got those two assholes to understand that I knew what I was doing and they left. Paul, no doubt, called Vince the second he hit the truck, but at this point I could care less.

I walk upstairs to check on Kendall and am glad to find her still sleep, the covers thrown carelessly all over the place. I pick up a blanket and lay it on her body before I head to the guest bedroom.

* * *

I wake up early the next morning and head downstairs, just in case she tries to pull a disappearing act on me. I am flicking through the channels and drinking some coffee when I hear the faint sounds of footsteps on my stairs.

"Hey you." I look up and am slightly taken back. How can a woman in ruffled hair, distressed clothes and bruises make me stand at attention?

"Hey." She grabs my coffee and takes a sip before sitting down across from me. I turn off the TV and just stare.

"So, thanks for last night or whatever."

"Don't worry about it. I just happened to be there." She bits her lip and looks out towards my kitchen.

"Are you hungry?"

"Uh, yeah. A little bit, actually." I stand up and motion for her to follow me.

"Let me make you some breakfast." She grabs my hand and forces to me look at her. She stands on her tiptoes as she places a kiss on my cheek.

"Thank you." She says it so softly that I have to strain to hear her. Who knew this was the same woman from last week?

We eat our breakfast in silence as Kendall seems to not be able to sit still.

"So, you want to tell me what happened last night?"

I watch as she becomes more engrossed with her food. "Not really."

"Come on, Kendall. I did kind of save you, don't you think you should tell me?" She sits there for a few moments before looking up at me.

"I made a bad decision and now I'm paying for it. End of story."

"But…"

"Look, Randy. I'm glad you helped me and everything. But I don't need this. I am fine, everything is fine and the last thing I need is someone's fake ass sympathy. Especially when it is coming from someone who does not even know me." She stands up abruptly and runs to the door before I can even stop her.


	4. Step Four: Searching

I made it through a dinner with my folks without much fanfare. It was the normal Orton dinner filled with fights about my career and my mother trying desperately to keep the peace. While I love my Dad, he is not exactly the person I would ever take career advice from.

I have an early flight tomorrow and I use that as an excuse as to why I have to head out early. Saying goodbye I head to the car and peel out of the driveway.

I tell myself that I'm not looking for her. I have it convinced in my head that the only real reason why I'm driving around in circles is because I have nothing better to do. I finally decided to head home when out of the corner of my eye, I see her bike. It's parked outside of a seedy looking bar and before I can even register what I'm doing, I have parked the car and headed inside.

The stench of whiskey, cigarettes and piss meet me at the front door. I quickly scan the room and I see her by the pool table surrounded by a few men. I make my way over to her and gently grab her arm.

When she turns and looks at me, I want to hug her. Isn't that funny coming from me? She tried to cover the bruises with makeup but I can still make out the outline of black and blue on her tan face. Her blue-grey eyes are now a disturbing shade of red. She seems to not know me at first, but once she realizes she breaks out in a huge grin.

"Randy!!!" She exclaims as she pulls me in for a kiss. I comply for two reasons. First of all, she's so drunk that I doubt if she even knows what she is doing and secondly, I really have missed the feeling of her tongue on mine. When she pulls back, the unmistakable taste of gin is still in my mouth.

"This is Randy." She says to the little crowd around her. "We fucked."

The man with the numerous tattoos and deep voice laughs. "Well that's not surprising." Every one around her seems to laugh but Kendall, who I believe is too drunk to even comprehend that she is the butt of the joke.

"What are you doing here, Randy?" She slurs my name and seems to lose her balance but I quickly grab her.

"I, uh, I just wanted to see you." She smiles at me before grabbing my arm and pulling me into the bathroom. I try not to choke at the smell surrounding me. Before I can open my mouth, she has her lips on mine, with a tight grip on my neck.

I place my hands on her cheeks as I try to stop her, but she is persistent and surprisingly strong. She moves her hands down and reaches under my shirt. I wince at the contact of her cold hands on my skin.

"Kendall, Kendall…" She pulls back and looks at me.

"I don't want to talk. I want to fuck. Can you help me out with that?" For the first time in a long time, my brain works before my body.

"Come back to my house."

"What?"

"Come back to my house. Just go with me." She shakes her head as her face snarls in a way that is scary and sexy at the same time.

"Fuck this." She pushes me into the wall and walks away. By the time I collect myself, I go outside to realize that she's gone again.

* * *

I hear the sound of something hitting the locker and it pulls me out of my daze. I look up at John, my oldest friend on the road.

"What's up?"

"Dude, I've been calling your name for five fucking minutes. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing. Just getting ready for the match tonight." John looks at me like he knows I'm lying but he also knows that I'm not in the mood so he leaves it alone.

Truth is, I'm fighting some serious cravings. I'm craving a joint, a drink and Kendall. At this point, I can't figure out which one is going to be the worst addiction. I want to know her, pull down some of her walls and I can't. Plus the fact that I even care about this crazy broad is pissing me off and a nice hit normally would cool me out.

"What?" I say as I notice John talking, again.

"I was saying that I finally scored a date with Mickie." I nod my head every few minutes as John starts talking as I tune him out. After awhile I jump up.

"Good luck man. I'm going to head outside for a few." I run to the quickest exit and let the tense wind wrap around me. If I had been in the right frame of mind, I would realize that I only have on a wife beater and a pair of basketball shorts in 12 degree weather. But right now, I can't begin to care.

I hear the faint roar of a motorcycle engine and for a split second, I wish it was her. Now I know that is impossible, but it doesn't stop me from wanting it. I hear the engine cut off and the distinct sound of steel tip boots. I know who it is so I don't even bother to look over.

The smell of chewing tobacco is suffocating as the figure is now standing next to me.

"What the hell are you doing out here, boy?" I look up at Mark and shrug.

"Thinking."

"Hell, you could do that inside." I shrug my shoulders again and continue to look at the various trucks like it is the most interesting thing in the fucking world.

"Go inside Orton." I sigh but do as I'm told so I don't have to fight.

* * *

Hours later and I'm mentally kicking myself. Thank God that was just a house show cause that was the most fucked up performance of my career. I wouldn't be surprised if Vince makes me piss in a cup. My mind was back in St. Louis and focused on blue-gray eyes. I could have cared less about what was going on between those ropes.

I make it back to my hotel room and flop down on the bed. I stare at the ceiling until a knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. I slowly make my way to the door ready to curse out whoever is on the other side.

"What?"

"We are going to talk now."

"Mark, there is nothing going on."

"Well whatever is not going on is getting ready to destroy your career so move out of the way."


End file.
